


the safest place

by zauberer_sirin



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Bisexual Phil Coulson, Consent Issues, Dom/sub Undertones, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Light Bondage, Loss of Autonomy, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rimming, Self-Doubt, Skoulson Romfest 2k16
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-15 22:01:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5801830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/pseuds/zauberer_sirin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coulson believes there's something supernatural at hand. Daisy thinks it's love.</p><p>Skoulson RomFest 2k16: Day 6 - "I never lost control"</p>
            </blockquote>





	the safest place

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hamsterfactor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hamsterfactor/gifts), [Skyepilot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/gifts).



He holds her arms down, his fingertips falling on the still-tender area that got bruised while they were sparring each other this morning. They’ve sparred every day since - just like they have done _this_ every night since. When he touches her Daisy lets out a moan-like noise that is beginning to sound dangerously familiar.

“I’m just trying to figure out why this is happening,” Coulson says calmly. Daisy squirms under his weight. She has gotten her shirt and bra but she is still wearing her jeans, which puts her in certain advantage over Coulson’s complete nakedness.

“Why does it need a reason? I mean, we know why it started but… why are you so convinced there’s something supernatural at hand?”

He had told her about Lady Sif’s warning, maybe too late. It had made sense to him before - when he went down an alien city about to collapse, for her; when he felt he couldn’t get SHIELD back unless he got her back before; when Gonzalez questioned his impartiality but what Coulson was questioning was if it had ever done Daisy any good - but he didn’t think she had to know, not until this happened.

“I need to know that-”

“You’re in control?” Daisy finishes. “Yeah, I got that.”

She arches and catches his lips before he can protest. And once she is kissing him Coulson never wants to protest. And that’s the problem.

“Why is it so hard to believe that this has nothing to do with whatever is in our blood?”

“Because,” he replies.

Daisy studies his eyes.

“Because you don’t consider me your type,” she says, deflated, sinking into the mattress.

He can’t bear to see the rejection in her eyes, how it hurts.

“You’re a very attractive woman,” Coulson tells her.

“That sounded so stiff,” she says. “And not in a good way.”

He apologizes by taking her lips in his. He does want her. He’s just not sure who put that feeling inside him.

“I feel like I’m in danger of forgetting how this started,” he says, slipping his fingers around her thigh, unable to stop what goes on between them despite his doubts.

“The night the thing tried to control us both,” Daisy breathes.

Coulson wants to snort at _tried_ but she is right, it was just a try. They were eventually free. They were eventually _released_ and that’s how they found each other in his office, knowing that no one else knew what it felt like, to have that monster in their head and their throats. Their veins. Because that’s what it was all about. 

He remembers the uncomfortable feeling of his clothes, the dry sweat stinging at the back of his neck. He remembers Daisy’s mouth tasting like blood, and not knowing whose it was. Feeling the chain of events he put in motion by killing Ward had put her more in danger than anyone else.

Daisy wrestles him on his back, pushing her knee between his legs, pressing it against his already undeniable erection. Coulson sighs, buries his fingers into her hair like he did that first night, but carefully now, not like their first time.

She sits astride his hips and slips her belt -beautiful, black like every time she wears black jeans, with an intricate design- out of the belt loops and Coulson knows what her intentions are.

“Daisy, I have a robot hand, I can get away whenever I want,” he says, feeling vaguely embarrassed for her. He used to love this so much, getting tied up. Control games seem pointless now, now that he knows what it really feels like to be powerless.

“And I can pin you against the wall with my vibrations and you would never be able to get free, but that’s not the point.”

Coulson thinks of all that power used against her, just because he slipped (was killing Ward slipping? was Rosalind? was it even before that?). He lifts his hands, letting her tie them to the headboard.

“It’s not dangerous, okay?” she says, nuzzling the edge of his jaw with her nose, all tenderness, the part of this Coulson can’t really understand at all. “We’re not dangerous to each other.”

He lets out a bitter chuckle.

He suddenly has a flash of himself pushing Daisy inside the Vault D cell, locking her up there and taking her voice away.

“History begs to differ,” he says. “A psycho Inhuman out there begs to differ.”

She clenches her legs around his hips, dropping her hand to touch his scar, then lifting it again to draw the muscles of his arm, in tension.

“Not being in control around me…” Daisy says. “It’s not dangerous.”

He wants to believe her. There are invisible scars criss-crossing over her stomach to tell him otherwise. To make her point Daisy kisses him hard, pushing her tongue inside his mouth in such a demanding way it makes his hips buck up against her weight.

“Better,” she says when she pulls back, sucking on Coulson’s bottom lip for a moment.

Yeah, better, he guesses. That’s part of the problem. When he’s with Daisy - and it’s only been a couple of weeks but he can see the pattern - he loses sight of everything except her. Which makes sense, because it was exactly that way before they started sleeping together. But this is too consuming, once he was inside her the first time on his desk, he knew that feeling would overwhelm anything else - including logic, including caution.

Daisy presses her face against his chest, holding him, kissing the layer of hair over it. Coulson wants to move to hold her back, but it’s held back by the belt. He realizes that makes him feel safer, not being able to _go to her_ like he always rushes to - and he suddenly remembers that Daisy is even smarter than he thinks, _this_ was obviously the point. Daisy slides her mouth over his stomach, closing her lips over an old scar.

It startles Coulson how much it affects him, doing this with Daisy. The first time he thought it was the circumstances, their combined desperation to feel better about what had happened. But it has happened ever since. This only helps his theory that there’s something supernatural working on them, drawing them together in an artificial way. It feels strange, and _alarming_ , not to be able to shut himself off from this, to have his body not react to old tricks. He’s always been able to detach himself from sex; it goes with SHIELD’s education, in a way. The same techniques they teach you to endure torture can be applied to cutting yourself off from your partner in bed.

It doesn’t work with Daisy, his training no longer useful.

She continues travelling down the length of his body, her hands pressed against the top of his thighs. She noses the side of his cock, suddenly drawing a long breath against his pubic hair.

Coulson gives her a quizzical look when she stops there.

“You talk as if you’re doubting yourself but you know what I’ve noticed?” Daisy says. “You always take a shower before we meet. Not _after_. Before.” She waits for him to tilt his head, question her further. “You want to smell and feel nice for me.”

“Daisy,” he says. How come he keeps using her name when he doesn’t have a proper argument to present?

“I might not know about fate or preordination or whatever you’re worried about but… I know all about gestures, small and big,” she says. He supposed she does. Daisy scrunches her face a bit before saying: “You love me.”

He stares at her, brow furrowed.

“Daisy.”

She drops her head further, settling down the bed, licking the tight pucker of his ass.

“Oh _fuck_ ,” Coulson lets out in a stunned _whisper_ , his body completely unprepared for the feeling of Daisy’s mouth doing that. Instead of fighting against the restraints his hands go limp between the leather of her belt.

Daisy props herself on one elbow, caressing the spot where her tongue hand been a moment before, only applying the softest pressure at the entrance.

“Have you ever - done this?”

“Not in a long, long time,” he confesses. “You?”

“Nope. I’m improvising here.”

“You’re going to need a pillow,” he tells her. Does he sound too desperate for it? In his head he’s begging.

“Oh.”

She moves aside to take a couple of pillows from his chair and she places them under Coulson’s back.

“It’s okay, I won’t use my powers,” she says and Coulson knows her powers could make this a lot easier and enjoyable but... “I know you’re a bit freaked out about them right now.”

“No, no,” he says, not wanting Daisy to feel like she has to hide parts of herself, that she has to hold back with him. “I just-”

“It’s okay, Coulson. _I am_ a bit freaked out right now. I’m glad I can use you as an excuse.”

She crawls between his legs again, scraping her nails across the back of his knee to help him relax. He does - as much as this situation allows him to.

Inexperienced but Daisy has a good feeling for it, she knows that without preparation she can’t go too far, and she takes a few minutes to tease him with her tongue without really pressing, while her hand draws lazy lines up and down his cock in a way that threatens to make him lose his mind and that’s a really bad choice of words, that’s the reason they are here in the first place, isn’t it? But what if it’s not? What if this is real and not a side effect of the blood in their system? That would bring on a new set of complications. And maybe he’s just weakened in his resolve by the way Daisy is pushing her tongue inside his ass.

And well, that first moment in which she’s able to push past the first ring of muscle is reason enough to make him doubt.

He is whimpering and Daisy pulls out carefully, lifting her head to check her reaction.

“This is good, this is like-”

“Like what? Tell me,” she asks.

“Like you’re inside me instead of that thing,” he says, breathlessly.

“That’s what I feel when you fuck me,” she tells her. Funny how Daisy can make the word _fuck_ sound so painfully romantic. She kisses the inside of his thigh and draws light circles on the reddened entrance between his cheeks. “I feel safe,” she says.

He balls one hand into the other to steady himself.

“We’re helping each other through this,” he says, a lie in case Daisy wants to catch it. He can be kind, though.

Except “this” was weeks ago and _this_ right here is not all about the nightmares.

He could pretend, if she wants.

Daisy shakes her head, smirks a little, that deadly smirk of hers. When he thinks about her smiling he always goes back to thinking about her in a denim jacket and with a new bruise on her face, after Akela Amador pushed the van she was inside into a ditch, because it’s the first time her smile made his heart skip a bit instead of just making him feel warm all over. And he had the gall to pretend she wasn’t his type.

“I told you, you love me,” she says. 

He wishes they were on a level, and he didn’t have to look back at her gazing up while she rests her chin on his hip.

“And I love you,” she adds, shrugging a bit before dipping her head and touching him again.

It’s like she said, she is pushing everything that monster had put inside him away. Daisy makes him feel like the opposite of that thing - when he was being controlled by it Coulson only tasted pain and like the worst parts of himself were being exposed and sharpened. He knows Daisy felt the same and worse (the way she was made to use her powers against her will) even though she won’t talk about it yet. This is the opposite.

When Daisy feels he’s ready to come she wraps her fingers around his cock and gives it a few long strokes as she curls her tongue experimentally. When Coulson comes this time, for the first time in weeks, it feels different. Like he’s being emptied out, but not like the Inhuman did, but like the tide washes him from the inside and pushes out all the bad stuff. He’s not sure he can explain it to Daisy, except by kissing her when she slides back up towards him.

“This is how you feel when I’m inside you?” he asks as Daisy undoes the belt around his hands and Coulson’s fingers drop to her shoulders, slightly numb, needing to take in the warmth and softness of her skin.

She nods. “I hope so - I hope I made it as good for you as you always make it for me.”

He cups her face in his hand with his prosthetic. Maybe he’s right after all and this is a bit like fate, because it can hardly be a coincidence. Finding Daisy.

After cleaning up they lie side by side, Daisy behind, caressing his shoulders and back and the curve of his ass a bit possessively.

“You still think we’re dangerous for each other?” she asks, wrapping one arm around him and resting her hand on the palm of his prosthetic.

“No,” he says. Others might still try to use them against each other, but it’s not the same.

“You still think this is some prefabricated preordained thing caused by our Kree blood?” she asks.

That one is harder, and being orgasm-optimistic won’t do. He presses his back against Daisy’s heartbeat, and closes his hand over hers.

“I don’t know,” he admits in a tiny voice. Daisy stiffens a bit, waiting. “But maybe I don’t care,” he says.

Daisy settles herself against his skin, pressing her face against Coulson’s nape. The brush of her lips makes his whole body hum.

He tries one last time to conjure old SHIELD tricks to cut himself off, compartmentalize even in a physical way, like he has been able to do with so many lovers.

It doesn’t work.

Not with Daisy.

It never did.


End file.
